[oom: Orpheus]

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

[Previously.]

Steve's hand hovers over the small of Orpheus's back as they go upstairs to his room. He's still not sure what happened earlier, when they tried dancing, but the more important thing is that Orpheus is hurting and it's within Steve's power to help. Maybe even make him feel better.

This, he thinks, is what you do when you care about someone. Two backs to carry the burdens.

"Do you need help undressing?" he asks when they're in Orpheus's room.

Comments

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus mostly just looks exhausted, his eyes a little glassy as he looks at Steve.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve finishes undressing him and steers him to the bathroom. "C'mon. You'll feel better when you're washed up."

[golden_lyre]

He nods and lets Steve guide him into the bathroom. He leans against Steve a bit.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve holds him with one arm as he turns on the water.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus lets his head rest on Steve's shoulder.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve caresses his hair. "Do you need me to get in with you?"

[golden_lyre]

"No," Orpheus says. "But I'd like it if you did."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve kisses his forehead. "Give me a second to undress."

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus nods and steps into the shower.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve strips off his service uniform hastily and gets in with him. He places his hands on Orpheus's shoulders and kisses his neck gently.

"You look like hard livin', music man."

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus leans back into the touch, already feeling better for having some of the grime of the past week rinsed off him.

(And also for seeing Steve again.)

"Hard livin', hm?" he asks gruffly. "I just feel like life."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"That sounds like blues lyrics," Steve observes as he starts up a suds in a washcloth. "Turn around, I'll start with your back."

[golden_lyre]

"I like the blues," Orpheus says quietly, turning for Steve.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Me too." He moves Orpheus's hair aside to wash the back of his neck.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus hums quietly as Steve washes him, a rough, bluesy tune.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve holds him around the waist, and he leans his head against Orpheus's, his eyes closed, smiling a little at the music. He washes Orpheus gently, arms and shoulders, chest and back, hips and thighs.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus relaxes under his touches, trying not to fall asleep standing up.

"Should wash my hair," he murmurs.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"We'll do that last." He kneels to wash Orpheus's feet and legs.

[golden_lyre]

"Mmkay." He leans against the wall as Steve washes him.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve is thorough--every crevice, every inch of skin.

He places a kiss on Orpheus's hip before he stands again.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus loops his arms around Steve's shoulders, careful not to press his fingertips to Steve's skin.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve kisses his mouth. "How are your hands doing?"

[golden_lyre]

"We should see if there's something in the cupboard for them," he says. Now that he's sobering up, they're quite painful.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve nods. "Almost done here. Just need to wash your hair." He picks up the little bottle of shampoo and pours some onto Orpheus's hair.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus turns again to make it easier for him.